I don't know how I got here. I don't even remember this scene.
A village. Narrow alleys. Wooden doors open to emptiness. Winds passing through as if searching for someone who is no longer there. The place was not vacated naturally — I'm sure of that. Life didn't slowly drain from here.
Life ran away.
And I am here. In the middle. No one sees me.
I heard the sounds before I saw them.
Footsteps. Two. One light as if it doesn't care where its feet land, the other steady and unusually cautious.
Then I saw them.
And my heart stopped.
Suddenly, a message appeared before me:
—Congratulations—
You have unlocked the skill: World Revealer
General Information — The Forty-Seventh World:
This is not Satoru Gojo.
The young man walking with his hands behind his head, with that careless look that says "nothing in this world deserves my full attention" — his name is Moro. He was born with the Six Eyes in this world, just like Satoru Gojo, but he is less talented.
Satoru Gojo was never born here. The place was empty, so Moro filled it. That's all there is to it.
Level: One
It seems the system only gives me details that differ between worlds. But what about this level? Is there some development I'm not aware of yet?
I left the question hanging and returned to the scene.
Geto was walking beside him.
The Geto I know — or at least I think I know him. Same calm features, the same eyes observing everything without showing judgment. But there was something different in the way he looked at Moro. Not admiration. Not challenge. Something more like reassurance — as if walking beside someone you trust even though you haven't tested it yet, but feel it anyway.
Is their friendship strong in this world?
Or am I projecting what I know from the original story onto something I don't understand yet?
Moro spoke in a light tone, not looking around:
—Hasn't exorcising these weak curses become boring?
Geto replied calmly, his eyes scanning the surroundings:
—You speak as if it was fun once.
Moro smiled slightly and turned to him:
—Huh? Don't say that… I'm sure you smiled in our last fight. At least that curse made us exert some effort.
Geto didn't respond. But his look was enough.
Moro chuckled lightly:
—Alright… fair enough.
I was watching them from between the alleys, hidden in the shadow of a dilapidated wall. My body is here — I can feel the ground under my feet, the cold air entering my lungs — but they don't see me.
The system said I am an observer. It said I cannot intervene.
It didn't say that observing would be painful.
Then Moro stopped.
In an instant. As if something pressed a button inside him.
The traces of laziness vanished from his face entirely. Replaced by something I wasn't prepared to see — true focus. The kind that makes you realize the person in front of you isn't careless because things don't matter, but because he knows nothing should be able to surprise him.
Until that moment.
—Geto…
His tone was completely different.
—There's someone in the village.
My blood froze.
Geto said cautiously, furrowing his brows:
—Impossible. The village was completely cleared… and I don't sense any cursed energy nearby.
Moro answered slowly, directing his gaze deep into the village:
—Not one of the villagers… and even if they were, I wouldn't feel it like this.
He didn't move. Didn't look at me directly. But the Six Eyes — those eyes that perceive what should not be perceived — were calculating something.
I held my breath, staying as still as the wall behind me.
He added after a brief silence:
—My danger sense doesn't react like this to a normal person… be careful.
Does he sense me?
But the system said:
"Do not intervene. You are an observer. Nothing more."
Geto released one of his curses toward the center of the village and set up a barrier around the area. Moments passed.
Then the cursed energy suddenly stopped.
—I found it.
Geto moved forward. Moro followed. I followed them from afar, feeling like I was watching a scene I didn't remember from the anime — and that alone was unsettling.
It was a bat curse. Its cursed energy rivaled a special-grade level.
Geto spoke with cold sarcasm as he observed it:
—A bat curse. That explains the bloodless corpses.
He released the dog curse and directed it at the bat…
The curse fell instantly with a sound barrier. Geto fell with it, blood pouring from his eardrum.
Moro suffered the same — infinity doesn't block sound, light, or air. If it did, he would be completely isolated from the world.
At that very moment, chaos filling the area, the air torn by sound, I saw something I didn't expect.
Moro stopped. Didn't move.
Not out of fear. Not hesitation. But as if he went somewhere else inside himself. Something in that moment ignited something that hadn't existed before. As if this fight wasn't just a fight for him — it was the moment he finally decided to understand himself.
I felt as if he isolated himself from the world by his own will this time.
And for the first time, he blocked sound from reaching him from the outside — something he had never tried before. Moments later, he unleashed Red to destroy everything in a five-meter radius precisely. Completely erasing the curse.
And for a moment…
I felt Satoru Gojo standing in front of me himself.
Geto lifted his head from the ground and sighed:
—Well… that was unexpected. Too bad, I would have benefited from that curse if it hadn't been erased.
But Moro didn't hear him.
He was looking far away. At a point barely visible to a human eye or even a sorcerer's eye. He focused on it as if watching an abyss.
And as if the abyss was staring back.
I followed his gaze slowly.
I felt a strange yet familiar feeling at the same time. Something I still cannot name. I looked at Moro again and wondered silently:
Could this be…
Geto combed through the village with his curses. They found nothing. No evidence of anyone breaching the barrier or leaving. They finished the mission and returned to Jujutsu High, carrying a report of a special-grade curse.
And I remained in my place, watching them until they disappeared at the end of the alley.
I slowly raised my hand and looked at it.
My body exists. I can feel everything. The cold air. The ground beneath me. The silence left by their departure.
But they didn't see me.
And while I was still trying to process that, a new message appeared before me:
"The Forty-Seventh World is not over yet.
The greatest mistake has not occurred.
But it will happen on the third day."
I paused.
Then a final line appeared, slowly, as if being written in real time before my eyes:
—The world will collapse after the third day—